Summer with the Country Village Vet

by Zara Stoneley

  He gave a short, snort of a laugh. ‘I wish. That was Josie. She left a voicemail.’

  ‘Oh.’ She fell silent, studied her glass. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  She didn’t even sound like she was that keen to hear, and his instinct was to say no. He’d said no to everybody. To his mother, father, to Eric, to Sally. But for some strange reason talking to Lucy was different. ‘It’s okay, I’ve unburdened myself enough on you. It’s not fair, I…’

  ‘Charlie!’

  ‘It’s complicated.’

  ‘I know.’ Her voice was soft. ‘I thought we were friends?’

  Friends. Yeah. That’s what he’d said, but his body didn’t seem to have bought into it. He’d kissed her, he’d told her the sob story of his life, and at the end of the summer they’d be going their separate ways. Never see each other again. What kind of friend did that make him?

  ‘You’ve got problems of your own.’

  ‘I’m fine. Believe me. I’m almost beginning to believe I might want to stay here longer.’ She was smiling, encouraging.

  This girl he’d only known a few short weeks, knew far more about his problems than anybody, and he knew she wouldn’t judge. She’d be a good listener. But it didn’t seem fair. But every time he tried to step back from her, he found himself drawn back. He couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help himself.

  ‘I want to help.’

  ‘Okay.’ He took a gulp of the drink, let the ice cold liquid smooth his throat. ‘When Josie told me she was pregnant I’d be lying if I said it was the best day of my life. We hadn’t planned it, it was a bit of a shock, we were busy working, building the practice up. To be honest we hardly had time to share a meal, let alone make babies.’ He laughed, never a truer word spoken in jest. ‘But then when that tiny baby arrived she was perfect, I’d never loved anybody or anything like I loved that red-faced bundle. I brought her up, thought she was mine. She was born after we got married, so I guess the assumption was fair.’ He fought to keep the anger under control.

  ‘Totally.’ Her word was soft, just filling the gap.

  ‘Then she told me she’d had an affair and it all blew up.’ His stomach churned as the day he’d tried to block out came rushing back.

  It had more than blown up. What had started as simmering anger, a hint of distrust, had exploded into a battle of words, accusations.

  ‘I thought it was something we could sort out, but how wrong can you be? She told me I was married to my job and what the hell was she supposed to do. She’d had an affair. Lots of them. I still didn’t get it at first, until I said I’d never give up Maisie, then she told me. Maisie wasn’t mine, she wanted a divorce, and she wanted me out of their lives. End of.’ God, he’d been so stupid. How could he have been so wrong about everything? He’d loved her, loved them, and it had all just been some kind of twisted game – with him as the loser.

  ‘Maisie was my daughter, I saw her enter the world, I’d fed her, changed her, sat with her at night when she woke up crying, rocked her back to sleep. I watched her take her first steps, heard her say her first word.’ He could hear the break in his voice, felt Lucy slip her hand into his, but he couldn’t stop talking now he’d started. ‘I watched her pull at her first wobbly tooth, made her giggle with silly animal noises.’ He’d kissed her knees better when she’d fallen over, watched the wonder that was his child as she slept at night.

  ‘Oh, Charlie.’ Lucy looked down at the floor. Then back up at him, before squeezing her hand in his.

  He studied their clasped hands. He’d never thought he had that much love in him, until Maisie had come into his life. Then she’d been snatched away and it had taken every bit of willpower he had to get through the days that followed.

  He’d always been a workaholic, but he’d taken it to a new level afterwards. He’d pushed himself until the words danced between his aching eyes, until he felt dizzy with fatigue. ‘I came here to get away.’ What else could you do when your lives had been so entwined? ‘We had set up a veterinary practice between us, I had to get out.’ He shrugged. ‘But I don’t know what the hell she’s playing at now.’ Just when he’d started to get a grip again. When he’d allowed himself to relax, to think that there was a way forward. A new, different life.

  There was one easy solution, much as it would break his heart not to see his daughter, it was worse to see her messed around, used in whatever twisted way Josie had in mind. ‘Don’t let her come here.’

  ‘Sorry?’ Lucy looked startled.

  ‘Tell her there are no places until September. I just need time.’ He could be gone by then, or at least know that a court had ruled he’d always be in Maisie’s life. Unlikely, but a straw he’d clung on to.

  ‘It’s not up to me Charlie, but we can’t do that. You know we can’t, the school needs as many children on the register as it can get. It’s fighting for its life, Charlie.’

  ‘So am I.’ He had felt like he was, at first. But things had started to get better. Until now.

  ‘It’s not my choice. Timothy isn’t going to turn anybody away.’

  ‘I know, I know. Sorry, it was a stupid thing to say. I didn’t mean it.’ But Josie had meant it when she’d said she didn’t want him in their lives. That he couldn’t see Maisie, that it wouldn’t be fair. She’d thrown that last bit in knowing it would be the decider. He’d want to be fair. However much it hurt him in the process.

  ‘But you want to see Maisie, don’t you?’

  ‘Oh Christ yes.’ More than anything. ‘But you know why I bolted the other day.’ He looked at Lucy. ‘It would break my heart to hold her again then have to say goodbye.’ It would kill him to have her in his arms again, than have Josie say it was all a big joke. He made an effort to pull himself together. It was either that, or crack. ‘Anyhow, the phone call. Apparently Josie had been round to the surgery looking for me when I was out on a call and Sal forgot to tell me.’

  ‘Sal forgot?’ Lucy gave him a look.

  ‘Okay, I never read my messages. Anyhow, Josie says we need to talk.’ He resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

  ‘You do.’

  ‘She was ringing to let me know about the school,’ he gave a harsh laugh, ‘bit bloody late now. She said she hoped I was going to be reasonable about it all. I’ve not seen Maisie for months. She’ll either hate me—’

  ‘I doubt—’

  ‘I was there one day, gone the next. She’ll either hate me or be completely confused.’

  ‘She’ll be pleased to see you.’ Lucy dropped her voice. ‘Whatever Josie has said to her, children are very forgiving at that age, and it’s surprising how adaptable they can be if we don’t burden them with all our baggage. You didn’t abandon her, Charlie. You’ve got nothing to feel guilty about.’

  ‘But she’ll be devastated when I say goodbye again. And I haven’t a clue what the fuck Josie has told her. For all I know she could have said I’m dead, or abandoned them, or…’ No, he really hadn’t a clue. What did a mother say to explain to a little girl that the man she’s always called Daddy isn’t? That she doesn’t want them to meet again because it’ll be ‘confusing’.

  ‘She could have told her that Daddy isn’t actually Daddy for all I know, he’s just a stand in and she’s got a real, much better Daddy lined up. In fact, she might already have a new dad now. Maybe they’re all heading here so we can be one big happy family.’

  That didn’t even bear thinking about. He’d loved Maisie as his own. She was his own as far as he was concerned. ‘I do want to see her again, Lucy. It’s not that I’ve run away. I’ve taken legal advice, but in the meantime I don’t want her to see us screaming about who’s done what. I just agreed we’d having a cooling down period, that she could take Maisie away and make a game of it, or whatever she wanted.’ He paused. ‘I don’t want that little girl confused, I don’t want her to feel that I don’t want her. Whoever her biological father is.’ He stood up, picked up the veterinary bag which was between his feet. ‘I didn�
�t intend seeing her again until I knew where I stood. Until I knew that I had a right to see her and it wasn’t going to be a one off. Look, I better get back.’

  ‘Charlie,’ Lucy put a hand on his arm, ‘you need to call Josie.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Soon.’

  ‘Not right now. I need to simmer down, and I need a stiff drink.’

  ‘I wasn’t much older than Maisie when I lost my dad, Charlie,’ he sank back down on the bench beside her, ‘and it’s taken until now for me to work out it wasn’t my fault. That’s a heck of a lot of wasted years. Think about it.’

  ‘I’ve done nothing but think about it.’ He felt exhausted.

  ‘If you don’t see Maisie again until it’s all legal it could take, well I don’t know, months, another year even?’

  ‘That’s what I’m frightened about.’

  ‘A year’s a long time for a little girl, Charlie.’ She was so close to him now, her head leaning against his shoulder, and he automatically put his arm round her shoulder. She wrapped her arms round him, and it felt right. He didn’t know the half of what had happened in her life, but he did know she understood. And he hoped they’d both be here long enough for him to find out more about her. ‘Find out what Josie’s told her, she’s probably just said you’re on holiday, or at work.’

  ‘I’ll call her.’

  She looked up, just as he glanced down, and he couldn’t help himself. This time he didn’t stop at one tentative kiss, this time he kissed her lips a second time. Lingered until her lips parted, then they both pulled back at the same time. He cupped her face with one hand, closed his eyes so that he could really feel the softness of her skin.

  ‘I really had better get off, I’ve got an afternoon surgery.’

  She nodded, and this time didn’t stop him as he stood up.

  ‘Ring me,’ she looked up, ‘if the pig isn’t any better.’

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Or if you just want to ring me?’ He tried a smile, even though the effort felt like it might crack his face. She gave one back and for some reason he felt a little bit better.

  ‘How about I make you some supper later? Nothing fancy.’

  ‘Sure.’ He could see she was surprised that he’d said yes. ‘As long as there’s wine.’

  ‘Sure. Buckets of it.’

  Chapter 18

  How exactly was she supposed to pitch this? Beans on toast in the kitchen? Pizza in front of the TV? It wasn’t exactly a dinner date, well it wasn’t a date at all. Well, he had kissed her. But then he’d run away. Then he’d kissed her again.

  She could pretend that first kiss had been all him, that he’d taken her by surprise, that it was over before it began. But the kiss earlier, in the garden, was different. She’d responded, she’d wanted more, she’d reached out, wrapped her arms round him.

  And it wasn’t his fault, he had warned her his life was complicated, but she’d ignored it. Let her heart open up and let him in. But he was a father, a little girl’s dad. Maisie needed him, and whatever the situation was with Josie, Lucy wasn’t exactly mother material, or ready to be a mother, a substitute mother. Not that he was asking her to be. Maisie didn’t need a mother, she had one. Oh God she was over thinking this. She covered her face with her hands. She’d asked him for supper. That was all.

  But that kiss changed everything. That kiss had fed the ache in her heart, and she knew she was playing with fire. If she couldn’t get her feelings under control then she really had to keep her distance or she’d be in serious trouble.

  She looked out of the kitchen window to where Annie’s large tabby cat was sunning itself by the apple tree. So much for sorting the garden out in her week off. Her mother’s visit had led to a frenzy of hacking which had left her hot, sweaty and with a pile of clippings that needed disposing of.

  Unfortunately they’d all been from the bottom of the garden, round the chicken coop, where nobody could find her. She’d needed some me-time. The chickens didn’t really seem to appreciate her efforts that much and the garden still looked exactly the same from the cottage. Wild.

  She sighed. Then just when she’d promised herself a proper day at it, Pork-Chop had thrown a wobbler. She’d never seen a pig pant before, or look like an old wheezy, drunken man about to keel over. But then she hadn’t seen many pigs up-close before.

  And then there was Charlie. Wonderful, clever, heartbroken Charlie.

  This wasn’t supposed to be an opportunity for them to finish what they’d started. She was here to offer support, booze and an ear. To help him work out a solution.

  She took a handful of flowers out of the sink and stuck them roughly into a vase. When people did that on TV it looked artistic, her effort just looked like a bunch of flowers had been stuck into a vase.

  Pizza would do. She’d got a freezer full. Cooking wasn’t something she devoted a lot of time to, a once a fortnight trip to the nearest town and big supermarket meant she had enough ready meals in the fridge and freezer to keep her going during term time, and when she remembered she topped up on fruit and veg from the village shop.

  During term time the most ambitious meal she tended to have was a baked potato with tuna and mayo, and a dash of sweet chilli sauce if she really was feeling adventurous.

  Anyway, Charlie didn’t look like the four course meal type, he was like her, on his own and a grab-and-go type of guy. Although maybe he thought she’d offer him something different, better? Arghh. She plonked the vase of flowers down in the middle of the pine table.

  She was over thinking this. She was going to feed the cat, change her jeans (which she’d been wearing for gardening and pig washing), put a clean t-shirt on and open a bottle of wine. Then he’d be here, and she could offer him a choice of menu.

  The cat, who had wandered in at the sound of a sachet of food being opened, looked at his bowl as though she was trying to poison him. ‘Okay, I know it isn’t the one eight out of ten cats prefer, but quite a few like it and it was all they had left in the village shop.’ He stared. Inscrutable. ‘I’d give you tuna, but I’m not even sure cats are allowed tuna. I mean, everybody says cats like milk, but then I read something that said they shouldn’t have it.’ He blinked. ‘Cats can become lactose intolerant, did you know that?’ He sat down, front feet tucked under so that he looked like he’d lost his legs. ‘And they have diarrhoea, and I really don’t want you to get a smelly bum like Mischief.’ She pulled a face.

  She needed a direct line to the vets, Jim had not been joking when he’d said it was handy having the surgery just up the road. ‘So it’s this food, or these biscuits?’ She put both out and he sniffed at each bowl in turn, then sat down, stretched a back leg over his head and started to wash his bottom.

  ***

  Lucy had never seen Charlie in a crisp white shirt before. Sleeves rolled up to show surprisingly strong, tanned forearms.

  ‘I’ve brought you a present.’ He held out a brown paper bag self-consciously, looking embarrassed.

  ‘Oh, a present?’ She took it gingerly.

  ‘Aren’t you going to look?’

  ‘It’s not alive?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ He looked at her bemused.

  The smell hit her before she even had the bag open properly. Grassy, sweet, the smell of childhood summers, of juices dribbling down her chin, of her mother’s laughing face. A smell good enough to make tears spring to her eyes.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t…’

  ‘Don’t be sorry, they’re perfect.’ She sniffed. ‘Nobody has ever brought me tomatoes before.’

  He grinned with relief. ‘I can quite honestly say I’ve never given them as a gift to anybody before.’

  ‘You remembered.’

  ‘Well I was called out to a smallholding on the edge of the village, I saw them and thought of you.’

  He was making it worse, if she thought she could resist him before then she’d just found out it was going to be harder than ever. How could she not fall for a man who
remembered the silly story she’d told him about fresh tomatoes, who knew that smell was one of the good memories from her childhood?

  ‘And I brought wine just in case you were short.’ He held out a bottle and she laughed.

  ‘Another bottle is always welcome, but drink is one thing I never forget to buy. Cat food maybe, but drink never. Oh God, I sound like an alcoholic now, don’t I?’

  ‘A cat neglecting lush.’ His eyes were twinkling as he followed her in and pushed the door shut. At least he looked a bit more cheerful now.

  ‘Well I have got food, just not Tigger approved food.’

  ‘Not wise to upset a cat, he’ll be bringing mice in for you to demonstrate his superior hunting skills.’

  ‘Great, that’s all I need.’

  ‘Pig okay?’

  ‘Stop laughing at me. I’ve put all the animals on a spreadsheet.’

  ‘Pink or blue?’

  Oh no, he’d remembered her spreadsheets. ‘Green or red depending on whether they’re good to go or not. It isn’t funny, this is my sanity at stake. How am I supposed to remember what they all eat, what to do if one of them looks constipated, another has got a runny bum and one is overheated and sweating down its snout?’

  ‘You make animal ownership sound wonderful.’ He really was laughing now, which was actually nice. ‘Do you do everything by spreadsheet Miss Jacobs?’

  ‘Not everything. In fact, not our supper. Just the animals. Four Seasons or Meat Feast?’

  ‘Sorry? Is that a music choice?’

  ‘I think you’re getting confused with Meatloaf and The Four Tops, though I am of course far too young to remember either.’

  ‘Of course. Me too, obviously. I blame our parents.’

  ‘Pizza. I can offer a choice, no expense spared here.’

  ‘Both. We need something to soak up the wine. I’ve not eaten all day.’

  ‘I’ll put the oven on then, and you can pour the wine. Funnily enough I’ve got a bottle already open.’

  ***

  ‘Was she happy?’

  Charlie’s question came out of the blue, as he was finishing off the last slice of pizza and emptying the last of the wine from the bottle into their glasses.